


forty-eight hours

by FreshBrains



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2138088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles snuggled back into Scott’s warmth, head resting on Scott’s chest, Scott’s fingers carding through his hair.  “You know we have to go back eventually.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	forty-eight hours

**Author's Note:**

> For the LJ comment_fic prompt: _Any, any, Beside the Dying Fire [The Walking Dead]_

Scott always hated the end of the weekend.

“What do you say, big guy?”  Stiles sat up, pushing himself off Scott’s bare chest and straddling his hips.  He stretched and yawned, his tee shirt sliding up to reveal and sliver of stomach.  Stiles always looked softer at the end of the weekend than at the beginning, like Scott soothed him into a boneless, weightless state.  “Think we should pack the Jeep up?”

Scott groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes.  “Not yet.  One more hour.”

Stiles huffed out a laugh, rubbing his tired eyes with the cuff of his hoodie.  “Fine.  I trust your alpha instincts.”  He snuggled back into Scott’s warmth, head resting on Scott’s chest, Scott’s fingers carding through his hair.  “You know we have to go back eventually.”

Scott sighed, tightening his arm around Stiles’ waist.  “Wish we didn’t.”  They’d been spending weekends at Lydia’s cabin since the summer before, usually helping with Malia and Liam’s full moons.  But even after the betas mastered their control, Scott and Stiles found themselves drifting back there in the cold winter months, spending forty-eight hours cuddled on the sofa in front of the fireplace.

“Relax, Scotty,” Stiles said, pressing a kiss to Scott’s bicep.  “One more hour.”

The next time Scott woke, it was to a shivering Stiles burrowing deeper into Scott’s arms, the blanket hitched over his shoulders.  The room was winter-dark, the embers barely glowing in the hearth.  Without waking him, Scott wrapped his arms loosely around Stiles’ frame, concentrating on letting heat out of his body and into Stiles.  He knew they were pushing it; his mom didn’t want him to drive home at night, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake Stiles.

“You take good care of me, dude,” Stiles murmured, sinking into Scott’s embrace.  Scott breathed deeply, taking in Stiles’ scent, letting it mingle with the smell of pine trees, fresh snow, and mothballs around them.  It was his favorite scent—just himself, Stiles and a warm room in the middle of nowhere.  “Wanna stay here forever.”

Scott _really_ hated the end of the weekend.


End file.
